Without Animosity
by Curiositatis
Summary: Follows HNLMS De Ruyter on her journey to seek out the one who burned away her past life. Companion spin-off to the Operation Eclipse series.
1. The Promise

"Identity papers, please."

Two sheafs of crumpled paper exchanged hands. The officer's brows furrowed in concentration as he read the name, looked at the photo, then up at the face before him.

"Hat and glasses off, please."

"Oh, I forgot… Here you are…"

They were removed. The officer studied the face. Bright green eyes ruined by the slack, tired face. Light brown twin braided locks. But as his eyes travelled down, he noticed the roundel pin, the crest on her sleeve, and, eyes widening, the rare tricoloured waist-sash.

He was too awed and surprised, even as an officer of the Royal Marechaussee of over a decade, to process the figure before him. With little comprehension left in him he idly stamped the papers, and handed them back.

The tired-looking girl nodded her thanks, put her hat and glasses back on, and went on her way.

 _A long road to my goal,_ she thought. A goal so simple, yet so challenging to accomplish. With a thin smile she walked through the simple wooden barrier and onto the quiet platform. Only a few men lingered on the cold, snow-scattered station at Enschede, and half of them were railway workers either huddled by the cast-iron braziers or with their heads buried in the local newspaper.

Even with her drab overcoat over her colourful uniform De Ruyter stood out like a sore thumb. Curious eyes wandered her way, but with the coat collar high and the dark hat their interest quickly waned.

It wasn't long until the high-pitched whistle of the locomotive could be heard, and soon the train hauled itself to a stop at the platform. Guards jumped off and hurried over the coffee stall while the conductor exasperatedly called after them.

"Where are you off to, _fraulein?_ " asked the conductor, a thin but warm man in his forties.

"Ah, well, um…" De Ruyter stammered, as she tried to marshal her thoughts in the wake of this new experience. To be free of the base and even Holland was exhilarating, but on her own she was quickly feeling lonely and dispirited.

The conductor, sensing her discomfort, gave her a big smile. "First time, huh? Well, how about your travel papers and tickets? Surely you must have those."

"Ah, yes," Digging into her coat pocket she fished out the documents and handed them over.

"Ah, Hamburg! Quite a distance. These tickets seem to be in order..." Here the conductor stamped the tickets and handed them back. "I shall get little Willy to store away your luggage. Wilhelm! Wilhelm!"

De Ruyter stammered her thanks as the conductor tramped off down the platform. Steam billowed from the engine vents as the pressure worked itself up again. She climbed up into the green carriage.

"Last call… last call…"

She looked out of the large window as the guards, full of coffee and bread, made their way back to their posts.

The train lurched forward, and soon they were on their way. With the scenery monotonous and the gentle rattling of the carriage, De Ruyter was soon nodding off. The noise and jolting ride vanished before the gentle waves of sleep…

* * *

The familiar sound of lapping waves. The slow, steady rocking of a vessel at sea.

De Ruyter opened her eyes. She stood on the wooden deck of the ship, a ship completely devoid of human movement and activity. Only the bracing wind, the glorious golden sun, and the keening of gulls greeted her, and the flapping of the white sails guiding the ship along.

Footsteps. A slow, measured cadence. De Ruyter looked around… and from the cabin emerged the man himself, Michiel de Ruyter.

The two, one a shipgirl and the other a legendary hero, regarded each other for a moment.

" _Wie ben je?"_ the hero with the bulging features and the cleft chin asked, in a not unkind voice.

" _Mijn naam is De Ruyter,"_ she answered.

"But that is my name," the hero replied. "My family name, that is. I am sure you are not my sister…"

"I was named _De Ruyter_ in your honour, sir."  
"Please, do not call me sir. You may call me by whatever you wish. Although calling me by my own name might prove a challenge…"

De Ruyter thought for a moment. "Then I shall call you Michiel, your first name. Will that do?"

"No, no, that will not do." The hero looked visibly embarrassed by the suggestion.

"I know," De Ruyter finally said, "I shall call you _bestevaer,_ your nickname. You won't object to this, surely?"

"No, that is fine. _Bestevaer,_ " He smiled at the memory of the nickname. "It has been a long time since anyone has called me that. Now that we have introduced ourselves, I must ask you, what are you doing aboard my ship?"

"This is my dream," she replied simply.

"But that cannot be, for this is my dream as well." The old admiral scratched his cheek idly, in thought. "Well, stranger things have happened." He shrugged his shoulders. "Welcome aboard my ship, De Ruyter."

He bowed, and she curtsied slightly in response. The famous admiral turned and strode to the gunwales, and De Ruyter followed.

"This ship goes wherever I wish it to go," he began, not looking at the shipgirl beside him. "But most of the time I wish it to sail endlessly across this kind sea, so that I may never tire of it."

"This is the enduring dream I have. Do you have one, too?"

"Yes, _bestevaer,_ I do."

"Can you tell me?" The admiral looked down at her, a mischievous smile on his lips.

"I wish to find the person who burned away my previous life," she replied, without emotion.

"Revenge, is it? That is not a noble dream to work towards, De Ruyter."

"No, it's not about revenge…"

"Then what is it about?"

" _Fraulein…_ _fraulein…_ "

"It's about…"

" _We're here, fraulein, this is Hamburg…_ "

De Ruyter snapped awake. Looming over her was the thin conductor, his hand on her shoulder.

"We're here, _fraulein,_ Hamburg." He smiled that big smile of his, now a symbol of comfort for the Dutch cruiser.

"Thank you, sir." She stretched out and then stood up.

"A good sleep, yes? Most of the time, that's what many do. Anyway," the conductor glanced out the window. "Your luggage is waiting outside, and I believe some friends of yours are waiting for you…"

"Friends?" De Ruyter was puzzled at this. Who else could possibly know of her mission, besides her Admiral?

She walked out of the carriage. There on the bustling platform under the restored station roof, swathed with scarves and in a double-breasted navy coat several sizes too big for her, stood Leipzig, a light cruiser who De Ruyter knew a little. Beside her was a solitary guard dressed in the winter blue of the Marines.

"De Ruyter! Over here!" she yelled, even though her voice was muffled by the scarves and they were less than three yards away.

"Leipzig, what a surprise!" The two cruisers hugged each other. "How is it that you know of my journey?"

The German cruiser grinned. "Your dear Admiral sent us word of your arrival, didn't you know? In any case, your next train isn't until tonight at midnight, so we decided to come and pick you up…"

"That really is quite kind of you," De Ruyter replied, as they began moving down the platform towards the street. "Where are we going?"

"Here in Hamburg we have a small base mainly for reserves and recuperation. We'll wait there!"

They reached the bustling street, and De Ruyter could feel the curious stares creeping up on her again as the citizens of Hamburg observed the small uniformed group.

Leipzig waved merrily at the citizens, and after recognizing her from the newspapers, continued about their business.

They got into the Kubelwagen and drove down the cold streets. De Ruyter looked on with interest at the lively streets full of wayward merchants, street entertainers and fine, upstanding citizens out shopping. It could have been any day in spring, yet the citizens of Hamburg strode purposefully through the snow as if did not exist.

"Here we are," Leipzig muttered, as they passed through a stone arch bearing the iron _balkenkreuz_. The two cruisers stepped out onto the cobbled courtyard, while the guard drove into the garage.

"There isn't anything you need in your bags, is there?" Leipzig asked, as they walked towards the handsome main building.

"No, it's just my fighting kit in there," De Ruyter replied.

"Ah, of course, of course." The German girl opened the door and held it open. "After you."

De Ruyter walked into the warm entrance hall, a pleasant corridor smelling of varnished, seasoned oak and the faint chemical stench of the various paintings that lined the walls.

"This way, De Ruyter," Leipzig took off her gloves and moved ahead of her charge. They shed their coats and hats onto the groaning coat rack and De Ruyter examined her friend for a moment.

Little had changed of the cheery complexion before her. Though she was sure that Leipzig had seen many more battles than she could ever dream of, there was no trace of it on the genuine smile. Her amber crown braid was tied as expertly as ever, with that same level of German neatness that many of the girls of the Kriegsmarine prided themselves on.

Traversing through the warm corridors, they passing typists' pools, chart rooms and the many offices that the compound housed. They reached the officer's _gasthaus_ and upon entry were greeted by clean-shaven stewards, who bowed as they moved through the foyer, the empty reading room, the smoking room, until they reached the quiet dining room.

"You must be hungry," Leipzig brightly remarked, as more stewards showed them to a table next to a window overlooking a nearby canal. "Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?"

"Coffee, served _café au lait_ please."

Leipzig gave the orders to a waiter, who nodded and bustled off. She turned her attention to the little neat menu in front of her, while De Ruyter gazed out the window, watching a little coal barge steam past the window.

"What will you have, De Ruyter?"

"Anything. You know the food here better than I do."

"That, you are right about. Let me see… ah, that should do nicely. Waiter!"

"So," Leipzig began as the order was speedily delivered, "your mission. Herr Erichsen told me not to ask about it, but still…"

"Well, if Herr Erichsen wanted you to not ask, then he doesn't want you knowing, right?"

"Come on, just a hint? I'm dying to know…"

"I'm sorry, Leipzig, I just can't tell you…"

"Why?" Leipzig's voice grew sceptical. "What's so important about this mission of yours? And why do you have to go alone, across Germany and to who-knows-elsewhere?"

"I… I can't tell you." De Ruyter looked the German squarely as she said this. "I have to do this alone. It's for my own good."

"For your own good," Leipzig repeated. "Why does that sound so ominous? Sounds scary…"

"Moving on, how is Wilhelmshaven? I hear the operations are improving this year," De Ruyter said, hoping to turn the conversation away.

"Oh, the operations are fine, not too much work for me, though. Herr Erichsen is hard at work coaching those H-classes, and the expeditions are bringing back some good catches. This will be a good year for us."

"I see… what about the co-operation with Great Britain? How is that coming along?"

"Very badly." The light cruiser looked gloomy at the thought. "Those prideful idiots don't care about it at all, and we have had a few disasters because of their negligence."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, and those damned French are just the same as well. Won't even listen to Frau Tirpitz even when all the admirals agree to have her command." Leipzig sighed. "We'll never win the war at this rate…"

Silence for a while. Then came the drinks, then the food – _hummersuppe,_ the creamy lobster soup with whipped cream and dill, a specialty of the region. Leipzig rubbed her hands enthusiastically at the sight, and with a slice of rye in one hand and spoon in the other, both girls tucked in.

* * *

"Ah, nothing like good _himmel und erde_ to fill you up on cold nights such as these," Leipzig happily remarked.

They were driving now, with Leipzig at the wheel as the guards guided them at every street corner through the darkened city. As a city near the coast and thus open to Abyssal air raids, Hamburg was blacked out and it was only with the efforts of the Hamburg garrison that they would get to the station safely.

Only the whistling and steam vents told De Ruyter of the station's proximity. Guards signalled them into the kerbside and they got out.

"I do hope you find what you are looking for," the German cruiser said as De Ruyter ascended the steps to the waiting carriage. "And I hope that you return safely. I would very much like to see you and have tea again…"

De Ruyter smiled. "Hearing that from you, Leipzig, that warms my heart. Would it wound you, too, if I were to never return?"

"I would cry," the German girl said seriously, looking up at her departing friend. "I would cry knowing you would never sit at my table again…"

The Dutch shipgirl clambered down and embraced her host. "Then I promise you that I will come through this railway again, and when I do, I will have tea with you again."

"You will?" Leipzig brightened. "I can't wait! Farewell!"

"Goodbye, Leipzig." De Ruyter hopped aboard as the train slowly began moving. Steam billowed and rose, obscuring the dark locomotive from view. Before long, it cleared the platform and curved out of sight, eastward bound.


	2. The Fear

In the dim light of the carriage lamp a finger traced the journey as the train whistled along. The only way any creature could know of the locomotive's progress was by its headlamps and the steady chug of the valves and vents – all its windows were blacked out, as if against an unforeseen, invisible foe.

De Ruyter laid aside the map. The seats were a little hard, but it was more than enough for a girl of her stature to lie down and sleep.

The cruiser took off her grey coat and threw it over herself as she tried to find warmth in the rattling, dingy train carriage.

She snuggled into the soft coat and closed her eyes. It again felt strange to be alone, strange to be sleeping while moving at eighty kilometres an hour, and strangest of all, to be the only Royal Netherlands Navy girl in all of Europe barring her homeland. Indeed, it made her slightly uncomfortable to think that she might be the only shipgirl travelling by train at this time of night.

 _All alone._ The two words rang endlessly in her head, over and over. With a lurch in her stomach and increasing fear settling in her heart she fell down, down, _down…_

She wanted to cry. What _was_ she doing this far away from home? Why, _why_ was she doing this? For a shipgirl known as respected as a quiet, reserved but warm-hearted person why had she not stayed in the comfort of the naval base?

A tear dropped on the seat. _No,_ she thought to herself, _I will not cry. I promised the Admiral…_

But the tears continued. No promise could stop them, and slowly they fell onto the upholstered seat, soaking her cheek. She couldn't imagine the Admiral now…

 _Admiral? Admiral, where are you? I need you, Admiral… Help me…_

The prayer echoed in her mind, drowning out all else, as she slipped from the shore of wakefulness and drifted out onto the sea of slumber.

* * *

"Ah, so you're awake again."

De Ruyter opened her eyes. She could still feel the warm streaks on her face from where the tears had fallen.

"What's the matter, De Ruyter? Is something wrong?"

"No, no, _bestevaer,_ it's nothing, nothing at all," She rose slowly from the hemp covers and once again breathed in the heady sea breeze.

The Dutch admiral sat nearby, a dusty green bottle and the remains of several biscuits scattered around him. "I've just finished dinner, I'm afraid," he said with a smile. "Are you hungry? I'm sure I still have some more in the hold-"

"I'm fine, thank you."

"More for me then, I guess." The admiral chuckled and held up the green bottle, which he then drank deeply from. He belched contentedly, and then rose.

"Today we are making port," the admiral said, as he took the wheel. "We're going to Vlissingen."

"Your home, yes?" De Ruyter said.

"You've read about me, then? Ah, those writers don't know how to give an old man his peace… yes, my home."

De Ruyter walked to the admiral's side and stared out at the cresting waves and the sparkling sea, the fresh salty wind at their backs as the neatly-trimmed three-masted pinnace sliced through the waters at an even clip.

Gulls heralded their approach as the familiar yellow and verdant green of the coast came into sight. Fishing cutters dotted the mouth of the Scheldt and all along the topmasts De Ruyter could see the blue, white and red pennants flying in the wind.

The most remarkable thing about their entry into Vlissingen was the lack of fanfare that De Ruyter expected for such a hero of the Dutch. But then again, it was all true to the man's reputation. His dress lacked the gold braid and gleaming buttons and medals she was so accustomed to seeing.

They touched down at the quayside. A plank was dropped onto the deck, and the humble admiral helped De Ruyter off.

While the admiral talked to one of the harbour men that stood at the shore always awaiting arrivals, she looked around. Here was Vlissingen in the days of the old Dutch Republic – a thriving, bustling port of industrious merchants and flourishing trade.

Children of all fair complexions played games in the streets while grimy workmen passed fine gentlemen of honour without demur. The handsome halls and residences of the harbour stood tall among the skyline, each a monument to the wealth and glory of the Republic.

De Ruyter drank in this scene of the revived past as the workers got to work and the admiral returned to her side.

The citizens seemed not to notice her presence as they walked through the streets. The famous admiral only drew excited children to his side. The local ladies curtsied to him, which he would respond with a simple bow.

"Here we are," he said, as they approached the courtyard of a stable. The stable boys bowed to the admiral in respect and before long they were clattering along the streets in a horse-drawn cart, riding along the waterfront.

"Hup! There now!" They stopped by a simple two-storey whitewashed house.

"Michiel! There you are!" From out of the house strode a severe-looking woman in a black dress. At first De Ruyter thought that, despite all the odds, that this must be her admiral's mother.

"My lovely wife," he said, dispelling all prevailing thoughts De Ruyter had. "Ah, Anna!" He clambered down from the cart and took his wife by the hand.

"Where _have_ you been?" she demanded. But then her voice softened. "I was worried about you, my dear…"

"Do not fear, Anna my dear, I will always return to you," he replied, kissing her hand.

"And who might this be?" she asked, looking at De Ruyter curiously.

"A guest! A daughter of a dear friend of mine, to be precise."

"Well, will she stay for supper?" Anna smiled at De Ruyter, who curtsied the best she could. "It has been rather lonely of late… without you around, of course."

"Dearest Anna, did I not swear my life to you? I would know if I had been so foolish not to do so before I left for the fleet."

"In any case, dear, we shall have one more to add to our table of two. Come along, what is your name?" she asked of the shipgirl.

"Ruyter, madam."

"Ruyter, is it? Do come inside…"

* * *

The fire crackled merrily as the admiral stoked the pit. De Ruyter sat in one armchair with hot coffee in hand, while the admiral sat in the only other chair.

"I must say that you show rather good manners for someone of the future," he remarked.

"You knew, sir?"

"Of course! These are dreams, God's work to bring people like us together from across time. I know not of what awaits my children and my grandchildren in the future, but I know it is in good hands if people like you are there to protect it…"

"Thank you, sir."

"Speaking of the future, you mentioned something before about your mission. What was it about, again?"

De Ruyter blushed slightly and hurriedly took a sip of the coffee. It was wonderfully fragrant and full of flavour, having been mixed with various spices.

"I don't want to trouble your conscience with it, _bestevaer,_ " she hastily replied.

"But it seems to trouble you so much. Is it fear? Are you afraid?"

"Afraid, _bestevaer_? I…" Here De Ruyter stopped, as the ghosts of her thoughts rose around her, casting doubt into her heart. They floated around her, like malevolent spectres and geists, obscuring all hope and reason.

 _You'll never make it…_

 _So far away from friends and comrades…_

 _So far away from the Admiral…._

"Enough!"

The hero admiral had risen from his chair with the exclamation. In an instant the shadows disappeared, banished from his awesome presence.

"You do not need to make excuses before me," he said gently, his voice full of radiant power. "I too know of your fears, De Ruyter."

" _Bestevaer…_ " Tears again.

The admiral knelt by her armchair and wiped away the forming tears, albeit with a little force. "There, there, my dear, what good is crying over such trivial worries?"

She sniffed a little, and took the hero's hand into hers. "You're right, _bestevaer_. That was childish of me…"

"Do not fear, De Ruyter, of your own thoughts…"

"I won't…"

The sound of tramping boots above the rattle of rifles and the train.

"I won't… let you down…"

The door slid open with some force as a pair of helmeted guards barged into the compartment. One of them yelled at De Ruyter in an unintelligible language as she rose slowly from the seat.

"I'm sorry… I don't understand…"

"Papers! Show papers!" One yelled in heavily-accented English as the other levelled his rifle at her. The shipgirl sat where she was, completely unperturbed by the threat.

The conductor arrived. He too was just as confused as De Ruyter about this treatment, and was soon shouting in German at the guards, who ignored him.

In the meantime De Ruyter got her papers out of her coat pocket and handed them to the waiting guard. Unable to read the language, he said something to the other and he walked out of the compartment.

The second guard returned, amid the conductor's continued protesting, with a uniformed officer bearing distinctive green shoulder boards – Soviet Border Guards.

The officer took De Ruyter's papers and scrutinized them. His eyes widened and bulged at the various stamps and seals. Eventually he turned to the simmering conductor and asked him a question in halting German.

The conductor replied in a resentful tone, and then edged past the guards down the corridor.

"You," he said to De Ruyter in difficult English, "come with us."

But before she could rise to take her coat or the officers hand, a gentleman in a dull-brown suit and tie cut it. He looked not much older than the guards but was definitely younger than the pudgy officer.

He spoke to the officer in fluent Russian, his voice calm and level. One of the guards tried to push him away, but the border officer quickly snapped out an order and in an instant the guards trooped off the train.

"And you are?" the officer asked the gentleman.

"Jan Marijnen, Dutch consul for China," the gentleman replied calmly.

"Consul, you say? Your official papers, then."

"Right here."

"Let me see." A brief, expert scan of the document. "That seems to be in order. What is your relation to this person?"

"I am escorting her to China with me."

"I see." He turned to look at De Ruyter. "Do you know this man?"

She hesitated. She had never seen, nor heard of him, before, but she knew that she would need help in the coming days. With resurging confidence she nodded.

"Hmmm." The officer, still slightly sceptical, turned back to the young consul. "You are a little young to be consul, no?"

"It's my first major appointment." The consul laughed.

The officer broke into a smile. "I know the burden." But his expression was stern again in a second. "Regardless of who you are, however, I must make a note of this person's arrival into our borders. You understand, of course, if I must report this to my superiors?"

"I understand completely."

"Good! Very few that pass here do. On your authority and responsibility you are now in custody of this person. I shall not trouble you with the presence of a guard, but keep in mind that your movements through the country shall be watched."

The consul nodded, and the officer saluted and trooped off the train. The whistle blew a long note, and before long the train was underway again.

The young consul with the neatly-trimmed moustache bowed to De Ruyter and made to leave, but the shipgirl caught onto his sleeve.

"Please, stay."

"As you wish, miss."

He sat down on the opposite seat, looking curiously at De Ruyter.

"You may not know who I am, sir, but-"

"Apologies miss, but I think it's clear who you are."

"You… knew, then? All along?"

"No, no, the department would never tell me about something like this." He reached into his suit pocket and drew out a small stub pipe. "Do you mind?"

De Ruyter shook her head, and the consul promptly had the pipe lit in another few seconds. He breathed long and deeply, and exhaled a faint, sweet-smelling cloud.

"Egyptian special," he remarked, tapping his pipe. "Very rare nowadays. So, as to how I know." He grinned broadly at De Ruyter, who blushed under the kindly gaze of the young official.

"How could it _not_ be you? Your deeds are sung by every child of my quarter, and your picture is in the papers always. But what puzzles me is what you are doing so far away from home…"

"I have a mission, sir."

"So you do. That much can be guessed, De Ruyter. But what _is_ this mission? Are you able to confide with me?"

De Ruyter shook her head.

"But can you at least tell me where you are bound? This is not something you can hide from the Soviets."

"The Far East, sir."

The consul closed his eyes, dissatisfaction and understanding lining his brow. "I see. Well, now that introductions are out of the way, I think we shall have to get to know each other a bit more these next days."

"How so, sir?"

"Well, it is not very easy to get to Nippon now. You of all people should know the threats the seas now present to us. So it makes good sense for you to be travelling by train."

De Ruyter nodded in agreement. It was true. What hope would she have to venture alone into the Atlantic, Indian, and Pacific oceans, against so many unknown Abyssal fleets?

"In any case, you'll have to take the same route as me. That is, through the Trans-Siberian."

"The Trans-Siberian, sir?"

"Yes. The longest railway in the world. About two weeks of travel if we're lucky, a month if we're not…"

 _A month_? _On a train_? De Ruyter closed her eyes, despairing at the thought of being so far away from the water.

As if to soother her worries and dispel her despair, she found herself again on the deck of the pinnace, the wind firmly at her back, the gulls keening, and her famous namesake by her side.

"What have you to worry, De Ruyter?"

"Sir, I-"

" _Why_ would you need to worry? For if God and I am with you, what have you the need to fear?"

"I'm sorry, _bestevaer…_ "

"All is right in your world, De Ruyter. I will always be at your side."

De Ruyter opened her eyes. The consul was refilling his pipe, unconcerned with the world at large. _Perhaps_ , as her spirit was bolstered by the strength and courage of her namesake, _it would be best to follow that example._


End file.
